The Bloodcross Key: Arc 1: Shattered Knight
by Lady Tempest
Summary: (YAOI)(SeiferSquall) Seifer's guilt over his actions under Ultimecia's control leaves him as prey to those who will use it against him. Will Squall save him from his nightmare in time, before he is broken beyond repair? COMPLETE (Revised)
1. The Bloodcross Key: Shattered Knight Par

**The Bloodcross Key: Arc 1: Shattered Knight**

**Disclaimer:** FF8 and it's characters are owned by Squaresoft and whoever else has legal claim. This story was written for entertainment only and I gain no profit from it. 

**_Author's notes:_** This story is inspired by the Key-game, a writing challenge started on the ysml (yaoi/slash mailing list). The stories produced are usually yaoi/shounen ai and original in nature, but fanfic (and non-yaoi variants) have been written. The consistent theme that never varies is of Master/Slave, the slave being represented by the 'Key', and the Key is always _male_. 

The following story was my first fanfic, started over a year ago. Although the original premise was very basic, holding to Key-game themes, it has grown to 'epic' proportions and continues into a second arc, Reversals, which is now complete, and an eventual third. 

Also, I take characterization very seriously and have made every attempt to keep at least the primary characters in-character while maintaining the concept of the story. Feedback regarding my success, or failure, is welcomed. 

However, rude comments stating that Seifer and Squall are not 'gay' are a waste of time and will serve only to amuse me, not change my mind, nor even _gasp_> offend me. Obvious subtext of _some_ sort of chemistry between Seifer and Squall **_does_** exist within the game, and I have chosen to interpret it as romantic. Yet, I am open to intelligent discussion of opposing ideas in the interest of debate. 

**Warning:** This fic is extremely dark, with heavy angst, foul language, graphic violence, non-consensual male/male sexual content, and shounen ai (male/male romance) (Seifer/Squall). 

**Spoilers:** Takes place after the end of the game. 

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**The Bloodcross Key: Arc 1: Shattered Knight**   
_by Lady Tempest _   
  


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**Part 1:**   


Seifer sat quietly at the edge of the pier, watching the sky. The sun was slowly setting. The subtle pinks, purples and blues contrasted his golden hair glimmering in the last rays of sunlight. 

He was grateful to be alive, free, after all he had done while the Sorceress' Knight. He deserved far less than the gift he had been given. _Far _less. Imprisonment at the least. Execution, far more. But he wouldn't squander the mercy he had been shown. He would try again to finally become a SeeD, and do whatever it took to earn it. Anything, so he could atone his past evils. 

" SEIFER. OK?" 

Seifer turned to the silver-haired girl suddenly behind him. Her one scarlet eye softened with concern. For him. He sighed and forced a smile. " I'm fine, Fujin. Just thinking." 

Her eye narrowed, as she clasped her hands at her back. She didn't seem convinced. 

"Be careful you don't hurt yourself, ya know," the dark, burly youth that appeared beside her chuckled, fishing gear and a few fish on lines slung over his broad shoulders. 

"If I suspected you were familiar with the process, I might take your advice," Seifer smirked. 

Fujin. Raijin. His friends. His only friends. Ever. Sad, pitiful, if he were to think about it. So he usually didn't. It wasn't from lack of trying, in his own way. But it never got him anywhere. Not as a small child, not at Garden, not now. 

But at least _they_ cared. He knew that now. The loyalty they had shown him while he was at his worst proved that to him. They even tried to convince him that it wasn't his fault, that he hadn't been himself, he had been controlled, or some such pathetic attempt at consoling his guilt. But he wouldn't believe them, even if it was true. It was _always _his fault and, if it wasn't, then he was weak. He'd rather take the blame. 

"It's getting late, ya know." 

"GOING," Fujin added, her eye watching the blond expectantly. 

"I'd like to stay here a little longer. You go without me." A sad, wistful smile crept across his handsome face. 

" SURE?" 

" Yeah, ya sure? It's a long walk back to Garden. We can stay a bit longer, ya know." Raijin shrugged. 

Seifer chuckled. " Surely, you two aren't worried about me?!" he smirked. 

" Seifer," Fujin said quietly, " ... don't like to see you sad." 

" Geez, I'm fine. Don't get all mushy on me." Turning away toward the endless sea of blue, he added, " I just wanted to enjoy this a while more. That's all." He leaned back slightly, braced by his straight-locked arms. Lifting his face to the pastel sky, he closed his aquamarine eyes and absorbed the presence of the ocean, the salty, cool air, the fading warmth of the sun. 

" SAFE?" 

" Doubt that I can handle myself?" Cracking open one pale blue eye, he tilted his golden head to gaze over his shoulder, the ever-present smirk firmly on his lips. " I promise to stay on the road. Okay, mommy?" he said with a light-hearted chuckle. 

" RAGE," Fujin growled, her hands clenching into fists at her side. 

Seifer threw his head back as his amused chuckle broke into full laughter. Raijin's joined snicker was quickly rewarded with a swift kick to his ankle. 

" Ow! That hurt, ya know!" 

Fujin ignored him. " Seifer..." her voice was low, the softness of it strange from the steely young woman. 

The blond stifled his laughter and smiled warmly. " I promise. Besides..." Smirking, he patted, with a black leather gloved hand, the gunblade laying next to him on the worn wooden dock. "Hyperion's with me." 

Fujin sighed and nodded. Then she turned and walked from the pier. 

Raijin looked at Seifer and shrugged. "Well, see ya later, ya know." 

" Later." Seifer waved absently. " I won't be too long." 

Raijin shrugged again, then followed the quickly disappearing Fujin. 

Seifer turned his handsome face back to the sea. The sky reflected its darkening purples and pinks on the deep blue water. So peaceful. A light tangy breeze brushed through his short golden hair and ruffled the sleeves of his pale gray trenchcoat. 

He should have done this more often. But quiet had never really suited him for long. Alone with one's thoughts, one's feelings, one's sins. And sometimes they were all the same thing. Even more so now. However, now he chose to let the quiet bring the punishment he deserved and the redemption he didn't. 

How could he ever atone for all he had done? For all the pain he caused? He didn't want, didn't expect, forgiveness from those he hurt. He just wanted a chance to make right what he could and bear the guilt for what he couldn't. That was all. All he lived for now. No more romantic dreams. No more foolishness. They were all illusions anyway. Unattainable or soul-damning fantasies. Or both. He would be like Squall: all duty. Only duty. That was the least he could do for penance. 

Squall. Seifer closed his glittering blue eyes and sighed. He was a fool to even think of him. Nothing could atone for _those _sins. How could he have done the things he did? How could he have lost control so easily? He had been such a monster. And to _him_. The last person he would ever want to hurt. But he did and there was nothing that could undo that. And that was his greatest shame. And his greatest punishment. 

The rumbling of footsteps on the wooden dock shook him from his thoughts. He glanced over his shoulder. A group of men, at least twenty, easily more, approached warily but like a hunter afraid of startling his prey. 

Seifer rose slowly, his pale trenchcoat swaying about his tall, slender body. " Yes? You want something?" 

"You the Sorceress' Knight, boy?" a burly, suspendered man snarled. 

Seifer raised a golden brow curiously. "I'm not anymore." 

The small crowd of men moved slowly towards him. Seifer unconsciously took a step back but a slip of the heel of his black boot against the edge of the dock reminded him he had no where to go. He slid to the side, a safer distance from the end of the pier. 

" So you _were_ the Sorceress' Knight?" another man hissed, anxiously fingering a rusted pipe. 

Seifer narrowed his pale blue eyes nervously. Yet, whatever their intentions may be, he owed them the truth. He nodded. " Yes, I was. I'm very sorry." 

" Sorry isn't good enough, boy!" the first man growled. 

" Yeah," the crowd cried. 

" We're here to get revenge for what you did!" 

He lowered his blond head, his arms hanging limply at his side. Surrendered. " I understand." 

" I don't think you do!" 

They swarmed on him, grabbing him, forcing him to the ground. But he didn't resist. He owed them this. Clubs, wooden sticks, metal pipes, fists, beat his body relentlessly. Each blow rattled his body, the pain sharp at first. then it merged into a throbbing ache, a numbness, as he felt, heard, bone snap, grinding a piercing torment through every fragment of his being. 

He instinctively curled into himself from the pain. Blow after blow after blow battered his body into blinding, burning agony. He owed them. He owed them. He owed them. He repeated to himself, in a distraction from the pain. 

Through the haze of burning, and throbbing, and ache, Seifer heard someone yell. 

"Careful not to get his face. He's no good to the buyer deformed, or to us!" 

Buyer? But he hurt too much to think of anything other than...he owed them.   


(tbc)   



	2. The Bloodcross Key: Shattered Knight Par

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**The Bloodcross Key: Arc 1: Shattered Knight**   
_by Lady Tempest_

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**Part 2:**   


When Seifer awoke, he felt light-headed, sore, and a faint, lingering tingle, like after-effects of a cast cure. Opening his crystal blue eyes, he rose on his elbows, softly cushioned by whatever he lay on. He was shocked, yet somehow not, to find himself nowhere near anything resembling the pier. Or even outside at all. 

Sitting up completely he glanced around him, realizing he was in some room he didn't recognize. Silver walls surrounded him with large, elaborate red crosses evenly spaced along them. He peered down at his coat sleeve which somehow was still intact, even pristine. His aqua eyes narrowed, then darted back to the walls. The same. The same cross. A bloodcross. 

Above and below the crosses, black rod-iron grating trimmed the walls. Across the room, curtains of black velvet hung down from the trim. And, as he followed the ornate metal, the wall to his right was curtained completely in the dark velvet. 

He gazed down at the softness under him. Black velvet bedding on a bed probably as wide as he was tall. Black rod-iron posts twisted at the head of the bed, curling along the wall to meet at the point of a smaller bloodcross centered on the wall. Black chains and shackles hung from each iron-wrought whorl like leaves of a willow tree. 

What the hell was this place? He rose from the bed, shoving his gloved fingers through his hair and massaging his temples from the ache between them. How long had he been here? And why? Where even was 'here'? 

He flung aside a curtain, hoping some answer might lie behind it, even a small one. The dark velvet lifted and revealed a mirror, set like a window would be. What? He shoved aside the rest, only to discover the same. The entire curtained wall was mirrored. What was the sense in that? 

Seifer strode to the remaining velvet covering at the far wall. Jerking it to the side, he found two silver doors. He tugged at the handle of the first, but it wouldn't move. Locked. He tried the second and it opened smoothly. A small room was beyond it, tiled in the same silver, black, and bloodcross design. He growled and stormed back to the mirrors. Folding his arms across his chest, he rested his chin on an upraised hand and scowled. 

The room was no normal prison. Though as long as it was locked, it was a prison just the same in his mind. And until he discovered why he was there, he would try whatever it took to escape. He had far too many important obligations for him to remain in this ridiculous place. 

The mirrors drew his gaze. Something about them bothered him. It wasn't what usually disturbed him, which always disturbed him: his own reflection --especially now that his sins were bloodier. Something just seemed wrong about the reflective glass. 

He ran a gloved hand along the underside of the mirror in front of him, searching for a way to remove it from the wall. However, it was set solidly within it. Before he could investigate further, a click snapped his attention to the locked door. 

Now _unlocked_, as it opened and a large, oily man entered. 

"About damn time, boy!" the man grumbled as he puffed on a cigar. 

Seifer turned, folding his arms, his weight shifted to one leg in a cocky stance which was second-nature to him. "Where the hell am I? And _why_!" his deadly ice-aqua eyes glared at the man. 

The oily man patted his massive belly and laughed. "The 'where' isn't important to you anymore, _knight_!" he spat the last word like a curse. "But why..." he grinned. "...'why' is _very _important. You're the Sorceress' Knight and _this _is your punishment! And a very profitable venture for me, I might add!" 

"What?!" Seifer's eyes flashed wide as he fought to hide the trembling that overtook him. 

"You belong to me now, knight. You're my whore. And anyone else's that wants to see you pay for what you have done." 

The man stepped heavily towards him, but Seifer was lost in his own mind. Punishment? Whore? _That _was the price? His handsome face tightened into a scowl, wrinkling the scar between his dazed eyes. There had to be another way! But... he deserved it, deserved worse! Seifer hung his golden head, his hands shaking uncontrollably. 

A thick hand seized his arm and shoved him towards the bed. Seifer stumbled, still in a daze of guilt and self-loathing, and fell onto the bed, his face buried in the soft, dark velvet. 

"Perfect." the slick voice fluttered distantly in his ears. "I was expecting to need the restraints." His body jerked and his trenchcoat was yanked from his shoulders. Another tug and tobacco-stained, stubby hands slithered across his bare skin. 

'_He deserved it_' echoed through his mind. Seifer demanded it to. But even his guilt-ridden resolve couldn't ignore the thick finger that suddenly forced itself within him. He cried out and tried to squirm away. A strong hand grabbed his neck and shoved him deeper onto the soft bed. 

"I'm going to claim you, knight-whore. It can either be the easy way or not! I really don't care." 

"I never do anything the easy way!" Seifer sneered and kicked at his captor. The grip slackened and he rolled away, only to be tripped by his own pants tangled around his ankles. He fell hard on his shoulder, onto the black carpet, the breath knocked from his lungs. 

The man loomed over him with an amused leer. "Stupid boy! This is only what you deserve and you know it!" 

He kicked Seifer in the stomach. The blond grunted and curled into himself. He was right. Why fight it? He was right! Another kick. 

" On the bed! Now!" 

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	3. The Bloodcross Key: Shattered Knight Par

* * *

**The Bloodcross Key: Arc 1: Shattered Knight**   
_by Lady Tempest_

* * *

**Part 3:**

Squall sat silently at Cid Kramer's large desk. His calloused fingers tangled in his chestnut brown hair as he propped his head in an upraised hand. He was reading over a stack of SeeD mission reports. And had been doing so for the past two hours. 

He had no idea why Cid chose him to take over his duties while he was away on vacation with his wife. Everyone knew how much Squall hated being in charge. At least it was mostly paperwork, but he still had to deal with people more than he would like. Meeting with potential clients, setting up missions, briefing and debriefing SeeD teams being sent on those missions... 

He growled. His time with Rinoa had eased him for a while to interacting socially. She somehow forced it out of him even though it went against his nature. But that was the real point: it went _against_ his nature. He could only submit to her influence for so long before it drained him. Drained him of his energy, his patience, and himself. And perhaps that was why it also drained him of any affection he had thought he had for the energetic girl. Hell, he should at least be honest to himself. Pushy girl. She drove him absolutely _crazy_. 

She was always trying to force him out of his much needed quiet moments. Didn't she understand that he wasn't like her? He _needed_ time alone. Just because he needed someone to pull him from his brooding from time to time didn't mean he needed it _all_ the time. But, no! Anytime he tried to get away for a few quiet moments, there _she _was, pestering the hell out of him! 

Now that he thought about it, he almost was thankful for standing in for Cid. At least it got him a little time by himself, in blissful quiet! 

How the hell had Seifer tolerated her? The handsome blond may not have the same need for solitude, however Squall didn't see how he could stand being anything but in total control. Seifer didn't take orders from anyone when he didn't want to. 

Well... he didn't before. Something seemed different about Seifer since his experience with Ultimecia and then her defeat. Seifer didn't try to antagonize him into duels like he used to. Or, as Squall thought about it, much of anything. 

There was still the occasional snide remark with Seifer's characteristic smirk. But something was missing, even in the smirk. It seemed... hollow. That lively, smug grin had been a part of his life ever since he arrived at Garden all those years ago. And Seifer too. But now it and Seifer weren't the same. Both seemed ... well... lifeless. Forced. And for some reason he didn't understand one bit, he didn't like it. Not at all. 

A sudden knock at the door drew another growl from the somber SeeD. The quiet may have been leading his mind in a direction he didn't want it exploring but he still craved the solitude. And someone was disturbing it! If it was Rinoa .. 

"What!" he called curtly to the door. "I'm busy!" 

"We need to talk to you, ya know." replied a voice that could only belong to Seifer's burly sidekick, Raijin. 

He would have told him to come back later, especially if Seifer was with him. He couldn't deal with seeing Seifer right then. Not with the emptiness he now always saw in the statuesque blond's beautiful blue eyes. He sighed. But Raijin's voice had an urgency to it. 

He pressed a button under the edge of the desk which was followed by a faint click. "The door's unlocked. Make it quick." 

Fujin stormed into the room, Raijin closely behind. No Seifer. Much to his relief. 

"SEIFER." 

"What about Seifer?" Squall asked, forcing disinterest into his voice. 

"GONE!" 

He shrugged. "So?" 

"He's missing, ya know." 

"And why should I care?" 

Fujin's scarlet eye flared bright red. She raged from the room and quickly returned with a gunblade in her hand. Seifer's gunblade. Squall knew it almost as well as his own. She slammed it onto the desk with such force papers fluttered from their neat stacks. 

"SEIFER'S!" 

"I can see that," Squall replied sarcastically, irritation masking the rising concern he was trying to ignore. "Isn't he going to be a bit pissed that you took it?" 

"We found it, ya know," Raijin said his eyes lowered. "At the docks." 

"And?" 

"And he wasn't there!" Fujin yelled. "Only Hyperion and..." Her eye narrowed and she bit her trembling lip. 

"And?" Now he was really getting irritated. They interrupted his relative peace and then wouldn't get to the damn point! And it wasn't helping that they were scaring the hell out of him _and_ he was beginning to understand why. 

"... and blood," Raijin finished. "Lots of blood, but no Seifer." 

Squall folded his arms on the desk to hide the violent shaking that had just overcome him. This had to be a joke. A sick, morbid joke. That was it. The old Seifer was finally back and probably thought this hilariously funny. Except it wasn't and even with all the stupid stunts Seifer pulled in the past, practical jokes weren't his style. 

_ And,_ the steely girl had become visibly upset. A single tear slid slowly down her cheek and she didn't seem to care. "He was supposed to be back a night ago. He promised" 

"And what am I supposed to do?" He knew he was being a total ass, but what else could he do? What else could he say? Comfort wasn't something he knew how to give. And the thought of never seeing Seifer again. That he was dead. That he could never... 

"BASTARD! FIND. HIM!" Her blood-red eye seared into him. 

"And where do I look?" Squall waved a hand around him vaguely. "You have no clue. He's probably fine, wandered off after a fight as usual." 

"WITHOUT HYPERION?" Fujin's fists quaked at her side. "IDIOT!" 

She had a point. There was no way he would go anywhere without his gunblade. But Squall didn't want to face that fact. 

"Then he's probably dead," he commented with a coldness he needed desperately, or else he would break down completely. 

Fujin lurched forward and slapped him. His cheek burned, but far less than his soul. 

"RAGE!" she snarled, then lowered her voice dangerously and delivered a far greater slap. This time with words. "I can't believe he loves an asshole like you! You don't deserve him or his love! And to think he tears himself apart every day over what he did to you, believing himself unworthy of such a fucking bastard that cares only for himself! You disgust me, Squall!" 

Squall blinked his tensing blue-gray eyes. "W... what did you say?" He stammered. 

"YOU. DISGUST. ME!" 

"Not that," he said quietly, his voice tightening, the trembling in his hands surging uncontrollably through his body. "H...he l...loves me?" 

"She's right, ya know," Raijin growled. ".. you don't deserve it!" 

Squall leapt to his feet, and braced himself against the desk, his legs feeling weak and boneless. They couldn't mean it! Couldn't! He couldn't bear to lose someone else important to him! And he knew Seifer was important, very important. But he had never been willing to admit it even to himself, and now it was too late. 

Helplessness sapped any strength he had left since it drained from their first mention of Seifer's disappearance. What could he do? It was like Sis all over again. Except, he had found Sis. There was little hope of ever finding Seifer. 

"I don't know what to do," he muttered hopelessly, his eyes closing briefly to trap the tears that demanded to fall. 

Fujin and Raijin glanced at each other, then at Squall, an odd look creeping into their angry eyes. 

"We'll take you to the docks. Then we can figure out somethin', ya know." 

Squall looked up at the broad muscled young man, grasping desperately at the hope glimmering in Raijin's eyes. He nodded, slipping his leather jacket from the back of Cid's chair. 

"Lead the way," he said quietly as he sheathed his gunblade to his back. Remembering Hyperion, he turned to grab it from Cid's desk, his gloved fingers lingering along the metal blade leaving shining trails in the dried sea salt dusting its surface. Damn Seifer! 

"Take his gunblade," Squall said as he peered at Fujin. His steel blue eyes were cold and determined. "He'll want it when we find him." 

Fujin stared at him for a moment, studying him, then nodded.   


******** 

Three men sat quietly, covered in the shadows of the darkened room. Their hidden eyes glittered with the faint light seeping through a row of windows ahead of them. They all stared, transfixed, at the statuesque figure writhing in pain on a velvet covered bed. The excited beating of their hearts as their bodies surged with lust and anticipation almost thundered loud enough to be heard in the silence. 

A door to the left opened, shooting a slice of light into the theater-like room. A soft click of the door, and the room returned to blackness. Then footsteps padded across the carpeted floor. Emerging from the shadows, a thin figure in a dark suit stood by the window, his narrow face partially illuminated by the pale light. 

"Gentlemen," he said in a soft voice. "You are all fortunate to have arrived when you did. The Master of this establishment is set to enact certain limitations regarding ownership of the Bloodcross Key. It seems he is rather popular, even beyond the Master's expectations." 

Lifting the clipboard he held in his hand, he glanced down at the small stack of papers, tapping a pen idly against it. 

"Since he was brought here a week ago, nearly every of his waking hours has been completely booked. And even a few when he's been asleep. Which is unfortunately where this all leads. The Master is concerned that at this pace his property will end up damaged beyond repair, and seeing the profit he's bringing in, that's the last thing he wants. After this evening, the Bloodcross Key will be _temporarily _unavailable for purchase." 

The three men grunted their disapproval almost in unison. The thin man waved his hand causally. 

"No need for concern. You still have claim to the Key for tonight. Though the price has gone up. Supply and demand, gentlemen." 

"How much?" one of the men grumbled, but the hunger in his voice said he would pay any price asked. Any. 

"One hundred thousand gil," the suited man replied with a smirk. 

"What?" 

"One hundred thousand gil?!" 

"For _one _hour?" 

The man nodded, then turned to the sleeping young man through the window. "One hundred thousand gil. For one hour. But you know he's worth it." He smiled. "As a bonus." The man returned his hidden gaze to the shadowed men. "For the price increase, the Master has authorized certain alterations...." His eyes darted to the clipboard, flipping over a page. "... as requested." 

Each man breathed a little harder. "Done! Agreed!" They muttered at once. 

The man smiled. "Good. Excellent decision. Now you will each have claim to him in the order of your registration. Since each of you have stated a preference to watch, that fee will be added to the one hundred thousand, and you will remain here until your appointed time. Any questions?" 

Silence. 

"Well, then, I take that as a 'no'. Remember, the terms of your contract state no inflicting of permanent damage. So, gentlemen, enjoy the Bloodcross Key."   


******** 

Seifer clawed at his sweat-damp pillow, oblivious to the matted velvet crushed under his gloveless fingers. His life and his dreams, nightmares, faded into one. The more abused his body became the more indistinct the barrier between them became. 

The Cures a nameless young woman would cast on him -- he had lost count how many times -- were having less effect as his ravaged body screamed for rest, rest that rarely came. Several times when drifting into unconsciousness either through the torment overpowering his mind or sheer exhaustion, he would awaken to find yet another using his body for their vengeance. 

Sometimes he was merely beaten. But usually it was worse. He had been raped so often that he no longer felt it. Not the agony. Not the humiliation. Nothing, just numbness. Not like that first time when his virginity had been ripped and torn from him. After that, and the rapes that followed soon after, he wept violently, until his body had no more tears to offer. But that didn't stop anyone. Though his tormentors seemed to glory in his tears, the lack did little to discourage their abuse. 

But he was wrong to think of it like that. It was only rape if he didn't deserve it. Only abuse if his punishment wasn't just. Only torment if he hadn't been the tormentor first. He had robbed them of far more important things than virginity. Even if it had been the last thread to his romantic dream. The dream was dead. As he deserved to be.   
  


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	4. The Bloodcross Key: Shattered Knight Par

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**The Bloodcross Key: Arc 1: Shattered Knight**   
_by Lady Tempest_

* * *

Part 4: 

The breeze rustled loosely through his over-sized blue shirt, the same pale blue-green as his eyes. It chilled his skin in tiny shivers. Brushing back his unruly fall of short golden bangs with a small hand, he hesitantly pattered across the sand cooling in the slowly fading light and warmth of the sun. 

Another small boy, near his age, was kneeling on the beach, intently building an elaborately sculpted castle in the pale gold sand. His chestnut hair drooped softly over one blue-gray eye as a pink tongue darted over his lips in a gesture of concentration. 

Seifer nervously approached the boy, his little heart pounding in the accelerated rhythm of smoke blue waves smashing to white foam against the shore. 

"Hi," Seifer said with a weak smile. 

The boy ignored him, firming the sand of an outer wall of the castle. 

The blond boy bit a pouty lip. "Uh. Squall...umm...That's a good castle, Squall." He dropped to the sand next to the silent boy. "Can I help?" 

Nothing. Squall quietly patted his creation, sand scraping his bare knees as he shifted to put his back to Seifer. 

Seifer lowered his head, his small chest rising in a noiseless sigh. The gold-beige sand before him darkened with several tiny, gray-brown splatters. His trembling hands tightened into little fists. With a deep breath he shot to his feet, swiping his arm across his reddened eyes. 

"Why? Why do you always ignore me!" he yelled, his voice faltering into an unintended squeak. His arms quivered, tight-fisted, at his side. 

Pat, pat. Silence. Squall brushed aside his long chocolate bangs with his arm, careful to keep his sand-dusted hands from his face. Then he continued building his wall. Pat, pat. 

Sea blue eyes, brimming with tears, narrowed. "Why?" the blond boy screamed again. And he lashed at the castle, kicking it into a flurry of dark clumps and beige-gold dust. Before letting him attack with more than a few kicks, Squall leapt at him, tackling him to the ground and blinding pounding the slightly larger boy. 

"I hate you!" Squall hissed. "Why can't you leave me alone!" 

Blow after blow fell haphazardly against Seifer's body, but with a painful precision he had to return just to defend himself. His blood reddened lips quirked into a faint smirk as his blue eyes glittered with the same smug smile. Oddly, and sadly, satisfied. 

***** 

A sad smile settled on his rose lips. And a single silver tear slipped into the oblivion of the black velvet pillow. Perhaps, if he had been awake, he would have savored the tear in wonder, knowing it to now be impossible. 

Seifer's muscles relaxed. He unconsciously shifted onto his side, his long body tightly wrapped in a confining black gown, a low neckline revealing most of his strong, pale chest and a slit down the front freeing his pale, slender legs. A stark contrast against his golden hair and fair skin, black feathers at the dress' collar fluttered under his slow breaths, his magic-induced sleep too deep for their tickling against his cheek to disturb him. 

Standing at the foot of the bed, a tall man watched. He slowly stroked his beard as his dark, lust-drunk eyes roamed the length of Seifer's beautiful body. Licking his lips, he knelt onto the bed, his soft fingers lewdly admiring the sleeping blond's smooth skin as they trailed up his legs. 

The dark-haired man moved further onto the bed, his hands wandering under the velvet gown to caress strong thighs. Then, converged to fondle Seifer while he still slept. 

****** 

The sand ground against Seifer's back as he thrashed at Squall in self-defense. Few of his own blows did any damage to the dark-haired boy. However, he didn't mean for them to do so. 

Suddenly the attacks changed and so did Squall. No longer jarring pain. No longer the slight weight of the boy he secretly adored for so many years. The pain remained, but became the same pain his life had become. For how long, he no longer knew. He only knew is was far worse than letting Squall beat him senseless. 

It crept slowly up his leg. He squirmed to escape the foul touch, the sand scratching bare skin the full length of his body. A body no longer a six-year-old boy's. His aqua eyes shot open, though he couldn't recall closing them, and fell upon a large shadowy figure looming over him. 

The figure held him down, straddling his legs. Although he knew he should be capable of resisting, even overpowering his new attacker, something whispered in his mind that he deserved the abuse the figure intended even more than he deserved Squall's hate. 

Squall. He turned his head to a movement at the edge of his sight. Still a boy, Squall stood staring down at him, a scowl on his face and hate in his eyes. 

Their blue eyes locked, melted ice to cold steel. Squall smirked and folded his arms across his small chest. The beginnings of satisfaction, retribution, rose contentedly across his cute face as the figure on top of Seifer contorted the blond's slender legs over his shoulders and with no warning, mercilessly rammed and thrust into Seifer, tearing his body with bloody waves of searing cold agony. 

Seifer screamed. In the pain, both in heart and body, of the violation -- although it was as familiar as his every breath to him now; In anguish, over the horrible things he had done to warrant such punishment; And most overwhelmingly, in heartbreak and loss, for Squall hated him so deeply there was no possibility of enough redemption to even be worthy to speak to him, no less love him. Yet, he would endure anything, give all of himself, if it brought even a small measure of gratification to the beautiful boy. 

***** 

The man's brow furrowed as he groped the soft flesh under his palms. Cursing quietly to himself, he crawled to Seifer's side and struck him across the face. A loud slap, then another, and another until Seifer shot awake, screaming. 

A satisfied sneer crossed the man's face. Clapping a hand over Seifer's mouth, he smiled as the former knight finally stilled, staring at him with defeated blue eyes. Now that the gorgeous blond was awake and aware, he could begin a much more pleasurable game with his 'sorceress'. Just as he had paid for.   


* * *

  
tbc.... 

  



	5. The Bloodcross Key: Shattered Knight Par

* * *

**The Bloodcross Key: Arc 1: Shattered Knight**   
_by Lady Tempest_

* * *

**Part 5:**

He scooped a handful of damp sand, shaping and patting it into another section of his sandcastle's wall. The grains gritted his cold fingertips as he scraped and dug and formed his creation with quiet diligence. 

Soft, hesitant footsteps crunched behind him. He sighed. Why couldn't everyone just leave him alone? 

"Hi." 

Squall could almost hear the smirk he knew to be on the blond boy's face. Seifer. Why couldn't _he _just leave him alone? What did he want? Did he enjoy constantly tormenting him? The cute, irritating blond boy always found him. Somehow. When Squall most wanted to be alone. Needed to be alone. Was alone. Lonely. 

But he could take care of himself. He didn't need anybody. Not Sis. And not Seifer. 

He continued building his castle. And hoped the other boy would go away. If he stayed, the pain might become so intense Squall might break down and actually enjoy the Seifer's company. Even crave it. Need it. Want it. And then what would he do? What would he do when someone came and took the boy away? When the boy tired of him and left him alone. Again, alone. 

He couldn't bear that. It was far more simple to just keep Seifer away, keep them all away. Then there would be no pain. None that he didn't already know and accept for himself. The easy pain that he controlled, not someone else. And not some troublesome boy. 

"Umm...Squall, that's a pretty good castle," the older boy said, then took a smug pause and collapsed on the sand next to him. "Need help?" The arrogant tone sent a hot flush of anger to Squall's pale cheeks. 

Help? Why would he need his help? Why would he need anyone's help! He could do just fine by himself. He had to. Alone. Always alone... 

Squall clenched his teeth, grinding back the anger. The frustration. The loneliness. Shifting to turn his back to Seifer, he continued patting the sand, forming his wall. Maybe the pest would finally get the silent message and leave. 

The other boy was quiet for a few moments. Not moving. Damn! A growl, the shuffling of sand, and a dark shadow loomed over him and his carefully crafted castle. 

"Why? Why do you always ignore me!" Seifer yelled. 

Squall nearly jumped at the abruptness and intensity in the voice behind him. But he shut his eyes and shut out the anger quaking in the air between them. If he continued acting like Seifer wasn't there, didn't exist, then he would go away. And Squall could be alone again, in peace. 

He wiped his arm across his face to brush away the errant bangs hanging in his eyes, and to brush away the errant tears. Damn sand. Why else would his eyes water? 

Pat, pat. More of the wall solidified, becoming stronger and stronger under his determined hands. 

"Why?" Seifer screamed again. 

Suddenly, a blur of pale legs, and dark blue, and his castle erupted in a flurry of dark clumps and gold-beige dust. Squall spun around, glaring at the blond fury destroying what he had worked so hard to build. 

Damn him! Damn Seifer! Why couldn't he leave him alone. Just leave him the hell alone. Instead of ruining everything! 

Squall lunged at Seifer, knocking him to the ground with a solid, satisfying thump. "I hate you!" he hissed, as he blindly pounded the blond with his sandy fists. He cared little for where or what or how hard he hit. He just wanted Seifer to go away. To punish him for destroying his wall. "Why can't you leave me alone!" 

Blow after blow warmed Squall's fists with blood and soft flesh. Seifer fought back, frantic hands striking his body with a force too weak to interrupt his frenzy. Warm hands. In a perverse way, he savored the touches as Seifer's hands slapped against his skin to deflect his blows, or pounded against his chest to force him away. 

Through the flurry of his fists, he glared into Seifer's face: the smirking lips bloodied, the vivid red set the ice blue eyes to a glowing brilliance. Smug, even lying flat on his back being beaten to a pulp, like he was getting what he wanted And in a strange way it was what Squall wanted too, a perverse neutral ground where he was no longer alone but could still claim the safety of his precious solitude. It was in that, Squall realized: Seifer had already won. He needed the blond after all. 

But as he studied Seifer's eyes deeper, he realized something more shattering, more destructive to his crumbled fortress. He discovered the pain... 

...He discovered the truth: An adorable, blond boy, head bowed shyly, a faint, sweet smile on his lips, slowly walking across the sand. A timid hello. Pouting, pink lips, and a nervous glance at him sitting on the beach, building his castle, alone. The dejected sigh and fall of precious tears onto the darkening sand. Trembling hands. Rejected. Hurt. Wounded. Bleeding. All within, far deeper than any blow could reach. 

"No!" He screamed. "No!" 

Squall awoke with a start, a cry on his lips, his breath ragged and silver tears falling from his aching, blue eyes. He flung the tears from his face with an agitated hand. 

Why the hell was he crying? It was just a dream. A stupid dream! But a dream anchored in what he knew had to be the truth. The truth of a child's memories, clouded by the years of using the guardian forces he had needed to become a SeeD and needed to save the world. Yet, he had lost a portion of himself in the process. 

And a truth he slowly realized tore at his soul. To never see the sun-haired boy with the sea-blue eyes and warming smile -- a smile twisted into an arrogant smirk through the years -- created a deep ache in his heart. How much of the shy little boy had he destroyed all those years ago? A little boy, alone, like himself. 

He could have ended both their loneliness so simply. Without even a word. Just a smile, or a look, or simply acknowledging Seifer's existence, would have been enough. But he had been afraid. Afraid of losing another. Afraid of the pain that when Seifer was adopted, his sun would be gone. Just like his Sis had gone. And he would be alone again. Far easier to wrap himself in the cold dark of loneliness than fleeting warmth. 

However, his plan had been flawed and so much precious time wasted. Seifer and he were the only ones to never find a new home. And part of that was Squall's fault, he knew. If he hadn't been so cold to Seifer, rejecting his attempts at friendship, perhaps the blond could have found a family. Someone who wanted him. Wanted to love him. 

But no one wanted the cocky, temperamental bully Seifer had become, always demanding... no, _commanding_ attention. It seemed that for Seifer the world was designed purely for his own amusement. Squall had thought it had only been the blond showing his true nature, but the hurt in the shattering blue eyes revealed the truth. And to think, after all these years, Seifer still cared, still sought his friendship, his company, in little hidden ways. And still....loved him? And as before, all Squall ever did was turn his back and reject him. 

How much of Seifer's arrogant antagonism had been the only way left to him when friendliness never worked; how much was a mask to hide from the world feelings which would only bring him greater pain? Not just feelings for Squall, but for anyone or anything, leaving himself vulnerable to a world that experience would have shown only brought pain. 

Part of that experience was in Squall's own cruelty through coldness. And how much was merely Squall's perception of Seifer? Sure, Seifer was brash and confident, but as his memory unclouded little by little, Squall realized the blond never truly was the bully everyone thought he was. He spat insults and smartass comments, always with his cocky smirk, but he never actually harmed anyone. And he never seemed spiteful -- although, at least with him, Seifer may have been justified if he was. No, Seifer actually had been rather cheerful, amused, in his own arrogant way. 

Seifer was the only one who could break through his apathy and icy walls to touch his emotions, flare his passions. Not even Rinoa, who everyone had convinced him he should love, truly touched his heart. Only Seifer. Only Seifer challenged him, motivated him. Only Seifer accepted him as he was, didn't try to change him. Only Seifer understood. And he had taken it all for granted. 

He thought Seifer would always be there since he never actually showed he cared, never even _knew _he cared. He just danced their warped little dance, thinking it safer for them both. But it wasn't. And Seifer was gone anyway. And Seifer had still taken his heart with him, without either of them realizing it. 

Squall buried his face in his hands and cried. Cried for a friend denied so many years; for what could have been; and cried for a love lost before he had known it existed; and mostly, he cried for Seifer. Which was all the same thing. 

**** 

Squall hadn't been aware that he had fallen back to sleep until the incessant banging on his door jolted him awake. He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand as he waited for his heart to slow it's pounding in rhythm with the urgent tempo on wood. Swinging his legs off the bed, he staggered sleepily to the door, rumpling his chocolate hair irritably. 

"Squall! Open up!" 

Raijin. Squall growled to himself. What the hell could the big guy want? The last thing he needed right now was more bad news. He flung open his door, greeting the burly young man with a scowl. 

"What do you want at this hour? Normal people are trying to sleep?" he grumbled, crossing his arms across his bare chest. 

"Ya can sleep anytime, ya know. This is important." Raijin shoved a small envelope at Squall. 

"What's this?" His brow lifted as he snatched the scarlet paper, its satiny finish slick under his fingertips. 

"A lead." 

"Seifer?" Squall gasped, glancing up at Raijin's rugged face. 

Raijin nodded, a hopeful gleam in his dark eyes. "It's not much, ya know, but it proves he's still alive." 

Squall slid the small card from envelope: gilded edges and a satin cross, exactly like Seifer's, red as blood, catching the light from the hallway. In flowing red and gold script was written: "Your Key to a Knight Fantasy" and a phone number, and under the number in tiny print: "Ask for the Bloodcross Key." 

"Where the hell did you get this?" 

"Believe it or not, Rinoa, ya know." 

Squall's storm blue eyes widened. "What? Rinoa? How the...?" 

Raijin shrugged his broad shoulders. "She said she found it at a society party her father made her go to..." 

"But, how...?" 

"If ya want details, ask her, ya know." 

Squall peered down at the card in his trembling hand. Could it be? Could they have found Seifer? He hurried into his room, flipping the light switch on the wall as he dashed past it towards his dresser. 

"Have you tried the number or gotten an address?" he asked while quickly rummaging through his a drawer, distractedly gathering some clothes. 

"Yeah. The number called a recording and asked to leave a message..." The rhythm of Raijin's boot tapping the floor oddly matched the hammering of Squall's heart. 

Squall turned, tugging a pair of well-worn black leather pants over the black cotton boxers he had been sleeping in. His eyes narrowed at the larger boy, nervousness stealing his voice to barely above a whisper. "Did you?" 

Shifting his stance, Raijin's foot quieted its tapping. "Uh, no... we didn't..." he replied, biting his lower lip. 

"Why the hell not! Seifer could be dying...who knows how..." 

"Squall..." Raijin rubbed the back of his thick neck, like a world-heavy weight pressed upon his shoulders. 

"I thought you were his friend..." 

"Squall..." 

"I thought you wanted to find him..." 

"Squall! Shut up a minute, ya know! There's something you need to know..." 

"What?" Squall snapped. 

"You're not going to like it, ya know... Fujin nearly broke down her closet door after she found out." 

The brunette's brow arched into a strange, curious scowl. Closet? "What the hell is going on, Raijin?" 

Raijin paused for a deep breath, his eyes sharp with uncharacteristic seriousness. "Seifer's at a place called the 'Palace'..." 

"You telling me he's been on a fucking vacation?" It would be just like the bastard too. If Seifer had caused him to worry over fucking nothing, to even cry over his sorry ass, he'd kill him himself! 

"N...no... Not even close. They're....uh... ya know..." 

"_No_, I don't know! Now tell me!" Why the hell wouldn't anyone _ever_ get to the fucking point? 

"They're .... selling him." 

"Selling him? Like a slave?" 

"Kinda. More like a ....prostitute." 

Squall suddenly felt very cold. And almost faint. A prostitute? Seifer? 

"You ok?" 

No. "No," he whispered weakly. "So, where is this Palace, so I can get Seifer and have Ifrit blast it into rubble?" 

"We don't know yet. If we had left our name and number, details were supposed to be sent. But if me or Fujin had done it, they'd have been suspicious and who knows what they'd do to him." 

Squall was silent for several moments. "You're right. But maybe _I_ can."   
  


* * *

  
tbc....   



	6. The Bloodcross Key: Shattered Knight Par

* * *

**The Bloodcross Key: Arc 1: Shattered Knight**   
_by Lady Tempest_

* * *

**Part 6:**   


Thankful for the late hour and Garden curfew which left the halls empty but for them, Squall and Raijin slipped quietly from Squall's quarters, heading for Cid's, temporarily his, office. 

Squall watched the hurried steps of his black boots pound the marble floor, the sound like thunderclaps in the silence of the sleeping Garden. Oblivious to all else, his mind centered on one thought: Seifer. He was alive! Squall refused to think further then that, afraid of where it might lead. 

"So what ya gonna do, ya know?" Raijin finally asked in a deep whisper. 

But Squall was too lost in himself to hear. All that mattered was getting Seifer back. And getting him back safe. And... and what? He wasn't even sure of Seifer's feelings, so why think about his own? Anything he though Seifer might feel or want was only second-hand. Even his childhood memories might be skewed, if not by the fogginess of time and guardian forces, then at least by change. Did Seifer still feel the same? Could he, after all Squall had rejected? 

"Squall! Did you hear me?" 

Squall blinked. "Huh?" 

"What you gonna do?" 

His slight shoulders shrugged under the creaking leather of his jacket. "Aside from getting Seifer back, I don't know. Won't know until we make this phone call." 

Raijin dropped back a little from Squall as his pace with the slender boy stuttered. "Squall?" 

Squall glanced over his shoulder, his stride unwavering. His storm blue eyes narrowed. Well? Why did Raijin always insist on dragging things out. Just say it! "Hmm?" 

"Do you..." the darker boy's gaze drifted to the floor as he nervously bit his lip. With a deep breath his dark eyes lifted to stare intensely into Squall's, the seriousness and concern in them reminiscent of the last few times they had battled during the war with the Sorceress. "Do you think he's okay?" 

Squall shrugged and turned away. He better be. "He better be."   


***** 

Squall's head shot up from his desk at the first shrill ring of the phone. Running a shaking hand through his sleep-tousled chestnut hair, he took a deep heart-settling breath. The thump of Raijin's boots dropping off the edge of his desk drew his startled, storm-cloud gaze. Their wide, wild eyes met, somehow orienting and calming each other. The phone rang again. 

Biting a pouty lip, Squall snatched up the receiver. "Balamb Garden, Headmaster's Office, Squall Leonheart speaking. How may I help you?" 

"Ah, Mr. Leonheart, it is such a pleasure to speak with you. I believe you called regarding our...services?" replied a soft, friendly voice with the professional and tempered tones of a practiced salesman. 

Squall swallowed, clearing his throat of the tightness of rage creeping into it. His storm blue eyes narrowed as he forced his voice to a pleasant tone. "Yes, I ... I have a card..." 

"Yes, yes. I'm curious how you came by it Mr. Leonheart." Squall's heart stuttered for a moment at the words, but the voice had sounded free of any suspicion, only cheerful curiosity. "We are rather particular with whom will receive an invitation." 

His eyes darted to Raijin, like the muscular boy was his anchor to control. He couldn't fail. Not so easily and so soon! For Seifer's sake he _had_ to succeed. Or... 

"Uh, yeah. Well..." He let his breathlessness seep into his voice, shifting it from the nervousness of desperation and anger to the nervousness of a shy teen, all within his range of feelings at that moment. "I got it through General Caraway. A friend of his. I guess they thought I would be interested in the opportunity." Just not the way the 'Palace' thought. 

"Ah, I see. Yes, indeed. We had considered sending you an invitation, a 'Key', if you will, Mr. Leonheart. But you're dating General Caraway's daughter, are you not?" 

"Uh, yes. I am. But... _some _opportunities _can't _be missed. Guess they thought so too. There is much I owe the Knight for what he has done." Much more than Seifer, or even _he_, may realize. He certainly owed his former rival freedom from being used like a... a... 

Raijin jerked forward, his dark eyes glaring, hands clawing white into the armrests of his chair. With a finger to thinned lips, Squall waved him back, to calm down and keep quiet. Raijin reluctantly complied, thick arms wrapped over his broad chest in agitation. 

"Mmm." The man sounded pleased with Squall's answer, even amused. "Well, as I said, we had considered offering you an invite. You, of all men, deserve this 'opportunity'. As such, I am prepared to offer you not only a discount on the fee, but you may have the Bloodcross Key for a full twenty-four hours instead of our customary _one_ hour." 

For what he had in mind an hour would be more than enough. "Thank you." 

"No, Thank _you. _You saved us all from the Knight and his Sorceress. For that, everyone is grateful." 

If they were so grateful, then why did he have to pay at all? Not that it really mattered. He doubted those at the 'Palace' would be quite so '_grateful'_ once he was finished with it. "I, and my... friends..." The word still felt strange to him. "...only did what needed to be done." 

"Oh, such humility! How delightful. So, when would you like to partake of your Key?" 

"Well, I've taken the day off. So today?" He hoped he hadn't sounded as desperate as he felt. But to let Seifer remain imprisoned for one more day, one more hour, was unthinkable. 

"Excellent! It will take us a little time to prepare him for you." 

Prepare him? He didn't want to know exactly what that meant, Except it meant that much more time Seifer wasn't free. And safe. "No need. I want him just as he is." 

"My, my. An anxious one," the man chuckled. 

"He's gone long enough without some sort of... payback." Raijin's leather chair creaked as the larger boy bristled against his words. But to the boy's credit, he remained silent. Hopefully the words were as convincing to the man they were meant for. 

"Mmm, yes. Well, that's what we're here to provide." 

Good! All he needed was that most important bit of information. "So, how do I get there?" 

"You'll find the Palace just on the outskirts of the Deling City. We've converted a ruin from Hyne's era. I think you will find it almost as appealing as your prize." 

The man continued, giving more detailed directions as Squall scribbled the necessary information furiously on a notepad, editing out the man's random commentaries and compliments. Fortunately, the few 'Mmm hmm' 's and 'Yeah' 's were sufficient to keep the information flowing. Otherwise, he didn't think he could have hidden his rising impatience and anger. 

Even locked away in some strange prison as far as Deling, Seifer managed to stir his emotions. To cause him to react instead of reason. To show what he felt instead of hiding it safely away where no one would know. It was only through years of discipline and what, who, was at stake that enabled him to keep himself under control. To be the Squall everyone thought him to be and get the job done. 

"Thank you," Squall finally said after what seemed hours of silence, listening to the man ramble further instructions, stabbing his pencil into the last of the directions. "I will be there within the hour, maybe two at most." 

"We're looking forward to your arrival." 

Not if the man knew what they had planned. The bastards! "I look forward to claiming my prize." With the man's goodbye, Squall hung up the phone, the pencil snapping in two in his other hand the only thing keeping his control enough to not slam the receiver down. 

"Well?" Raijin scowled, his dark eyes glaring. 

"Don't look at me like that. I said what I had to so we can rescue Seifer." 

Raijin's features softened in relief. "Oh. Well I was beginning to wonder, ya know," he sighed. 

"Yeah, I know. Hopefully _he _was convinced." Squall rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Well. Let's get going." 

"So what's your plan?" Raijin asked as he rose from the chair and headed for the door. Squall tore the directions from his notepad, stuffing them in his pocket and followed. 

"Get Fujin and a few quick combat supplies, and we'll leave right away." They strode across the entryway toward the elevator. "I don't want to make Seifer stay in that place any longer, even if he _is _to be left alone until I get there. I'll figure out the details on the way. It'll take us about an hour. A little less if we push it." 

With a whoosh the doors opened and they stepped inside. Squall reached over to the keypad, punching the button for the first floor with his thumb. 

"So, it's just the three of us?" 

Squall nodded solemnly. "Yeah, as few people know what's happened to Seifer, the better. He won't want anyone to even know he was captured, no less why. It would destroy his pride." 

"Yeah. I don't know what he'd do if everyone knew." Raijin paused, staring down his shoulder over to Squall as they waited to for elevator to stop. "Squall, you're not so bad, ya know." 

"Uh, thanks." he murmured, glancing up at the larger boy, his brow furrowed in shy confusion. Silence filled the space between them, the only hint of sound the faint heaving of their adrenaline quickened breath. Suddenly, the ping of the elevator shattered it. 

"Now let's get Fujin." Squall said as he stepped into the hallway. 

"Aw, shit!" Raijin froze just outside the elevator door and slapped his forehead with the palm of his hand. 

What now? "What?" 

The brawny young man shook his head slowly, distressed. "I am a dead man. Fujin's gonna kill me." He buried his face in his hands. "Then give me a Phoenix Down so she can kill me again, ya know!" 

What the hell? "Why? What did you do? You've been with me all night." 

Raijin's hands dropped to his sides in despair. "That's just it! I left her locked in her closet. I am dead, dead, dead." 

Squall raised an eyebrow. "Why the hell is she locked in her closet?" 

"Well, uh, she was really upset by the news about Seifer and I had to lock her in there so she would calm down, ya know. I am afraid of what she would have done if I hadn't, she was so mad. But, I'm more afraid now, ya know." 

Squall shook his head, his wild chestnut bangs brushing in front of his tired eyes. "Well, she better wait until after we get Seifer to kill you," he said, forcing the barest hint of a smirk. And they would get Seifer even if he had to do it by himself. 

"Gee, thanks, man." Raijin grunted, rolling his eyes.   


****** 

It had to be enough. It had to be! Seifer groaned as he rolled onto his side, the black carpet stinging his raw skin. The black gown he had awaken in days ago...Or was it weeks ago?...He was no longer sure of what year it was, no matter what week, or day, or hour, his mind a blur of pain, humiliation, and the endless faces of those he wronged finally finding their revenge. The black velvet clung to his aching body in tatters. Not that the material covered much of his otherwise naked flesh, but it was better than nothing. Though, it shouldn't have mattered to him anymore. After all that had been done to his body, to sink any lower in shame didn't seem possible. 

He buried his deadened, pale face into the soft blackness beneath him, his fingers clawing the carpet's thick threads. Couldn't there be another way? He couldn't take any more. How could he be of any worth to them now? What satisfaction could there be in defeating the already defeated? Already beyond defeated. He had nothing left to offer. A stumble away from a living death, a fall into oblivion where nothing of him existed. All of his essence, his life, his soul, sucked from him, leaving a hollow shell. A shell even less use to anyone than he had been at the fullness of himself 

Seifer drifted so deeply in numb haze he missed the click of the door to his prison. However, his body did not. Instinctively, the twitch of his muscles descended into violent trembling. His heart raced and stumbled with each thundering step approaching him. 

"Hello, Knight-Whore," an all too familiar thick voice sneered. 

Seifer choked on the oily stench of rancid tobacco and the man's sweat as thick fingers grabbed him roughly by the arm and yanked him slightly upright from the floor, while another stubby hand grasped him by the chin. A tobacco-stained thumb pressed into his pale cheek, the hand jerking his lifeless gaze to the huge man squatting before him. 

"It's a pity I won't have enough time to play with you now." One of the man's hands slithered up Seifer's leg, sliding under the ragged gown to fondle his bruised, rounded flesh, fingers dipping into the sore crease between. "I do enjoy your lovely ass, but your next customer wants you as you are," the man said with a lewd smirk, licking his thick lips. "And it wouldn't be right to disappoint such an important man. So we'll just have to wait until he's done with you." 

Just being near the man brought an acidic sting to the back of Seifer's throat as his stomach spasmed to be sick. But to be taken, violated, yet again, by the disgusting bastard... sweaty, slick flesh slithering over his own, forcing itself into him... Seifer didn't have the strength or will to fight back a whimper. No more. Not again. Not another one. 

"I just came to tell you to be on your best behavior. He'll have you for longer than usual, so you better please him the entire time he's here." The man stood, the air stirring with the stale, sour smell that clung to him. His vast, brightly-colored robes swaying with the movement and the jiggling of his flabby flesh. 

"Maybe, if you're really good, we'll give you some time off." The man patted Seifer's drooped head like one would a dog, thick fingers roughly rumpling his dulled gold hair. "Not that you deserve the consideration." A tug at the back of his head, then the hand was gone. And soon after, so was his vile captor. 

******* 

The door clicked again. This time Seifer roused from his fog of despair, desperate to please the his chief tormentor by pleasing in any way the newest one sent to execute his punishment. Any time of being 'free' was worth what he may have to endure to earn it. 

"Master?" he whispered, his throat too dry and sore to speak much louder. Seifer raised his head, careful to not lift his eyes higher than ankle-level, while he struggled to bring his weak limbs into a respectful kneel. 

Dimly, the black leather pants and polished boots reminded him of a past he begged to forget, the anguish of what he lost and what he could never have, or deserve, too intensely painful to bear. 

The boots stilled at the doorway, prolonging his torment with silence and the unknown. 

"Seifer!" an all too achingly familiar voice gasped. The voice in his long-ago dreams. And the last voice he ever wanted to hear again. Not here. 

His glassy eyes shot upward, falling upon the beautiful face he dreaded to see. "No! No, no, no... not you too!" he sobbed, cowering against the side of the large bed, wishing it's blackness would swallow him like the blackness in his soul.   


**** 

Squall stood, paralyzed, in the doorway, his worst nightmares of how he would find Seifer not even coming close to the shock and horror of the truth. He could have imagined his rival torn to bloody pieces easier than the pitiful broken thing staring at him wildly with glazed blue eyes. 

"Seifer?" He stepped forward hesitantly, blinking in disbelief that the trembling young man curled on the floor could ever be Seifer Almasy. 

The blond clung tightly to the black coverlet hanging off the bed, pale pink lips quivering as dry sobs caught in his throat. "No! No! No!" he muttered like an anguished chant and collapsed onto the black carpet, drawing himself into a tight ball, a shredded black cloth barely covering his bruised body. 

"Seifer?" he said again, gently. It couldn't be Seifer. Couldn't! Seifer was strong and confident and passionate and... alive. Not... not.... 

His hands clenched into fists, the leather of his gloves creaking softly under the strain. They would pay for whatever they had done to Seifer Almasy. Pay severely. 

Squall strode forward. His usual mask of apathy had shattered, like his former rival, as the rage roiling within him broke to the surface. Not even the soft carpet could blunt the anger in his jarring steps. 

However, the dead blue gaze and choked sob as Seifer weakly lifted his head halted him as surely any solid wall. 

"Please. Not you! Not you!" Those pale blue eyes, lifeless and cold, glimmered, though no tears fell or stained Seifer's ashen cheeks. His body shaking, Seifer raised himself to his knees, crumpling against the side of the bed when his quivering arms failed to hold him. "I deserve it, but please... don't!" 

Deserve it? What did he think? "S..Seifer, it...it's me. Squall." Squall stumbled a step forward. "I'm not here to hurt you, I'm taking you home. We're getting you out of here." 

"No! Go away!" the blond cried, burying his face in the black coverlet. "Leave me alone!" 

Alone? "S...Seifer." How could Seifer want to stay? It was obviously a hell for him. The Seifer he knew would never beg for anything. Even in defeat, he had always been strong, never gave up. That was one of the things he most admired about him: his persistence, that passion to fight on, even when everything was hopeless. And even when it was irritating to be the object of it, Squall still respected him for it. 

But the fight was gone now. Seifer had been losing the passion for life before all this, and to look at him now... 

Driving away the surge of undefined emotion tugging behind his eyes, Squall crouched down beside Seifer, laying a hesitant hand on a broad shoulder, the black of his glove merging with the black of the feathers from the strange black rags Seifer wore. 

"Everything will be okay now," Squall said, collecting all the calm he didn't feel into those few words. 

The blond tensed, flinching under his touch, and Seifer's trembling broke into deeper sobbing. "No! Please! Go! It'll never be okay. Never! I must pay for what I've done." 

"What the hell are you talking about? Seifer, we got to get out of here. To where you'll be safe." 

"No! I deserve to be here. I can't leave. Go! Away! Go away!" Seifer struggled to pull away from him, but seemed to lack the strength. He groaned, drawing his arms over his head like it would hide him. 

What the hell was he saying? How could he not want to leave? "How can you say such a thing? You _can't_ want to be here?" 

"No," Seifer admitted in a resigned whisper. "But I _have _to." 

"_Have_ to? You're not making sense." He couldn't be crazy enough to think being sold like a... a... Squall bit his lip as if it somehow prevented the reality of Seifer's abuse from forming itself into a recognizable word, thus making it truth. 

"Retribution. Revenge. Punishment. I have to make up for what I've done." Seifer paused, his fingers clawing into his scalp. "For what I... I've done to you," he whispered with a sadness which carried beyond his rasping voice. 

He did! The fool thought he should be punished like this. That he should be punished period for some witch from the future robbing him of his will. Oh, shit! No wonder. "Snap out of it Seifer!" Squall growled, shaking the battered blond by the shoulders. "We don't have time for this." 

"Why do you care, Leonhart? When did you ever care? Why can't you just ignore me now, like you always have? Just leave. Leave!" Seifer curled tighter into himself, his voice so much like the little boy on a beach so many long years ago. 

The same pained, broken sound. Yet deeper. Endlessly deeper, filled with the pain and anguish of a life that little boy could have never imagined in his most horrible nightmares. But it lacked the fire, the passion, of the Seifer he had known then, even the Seifer he had become. Like a final blow had struck the fragile creature Squall realized Seifer had always been, that had been so close to already shattering since his defeat, Seifer was dying inside. 

Squall's eyes widened, then quickly shut as welling tears threatened to fall. Enough was enough. "No," he said simply, and as free of emotion as he could force. 

"Please, Squall. I'm not here. You didn't find me." 

He wasn't going to lose him this time! "I said no!" Squall glared at the young man trembling on the carpet. 

"Just...just go away. Forget about me, like you always do. I can't fight you anymore, so I am no use to you. I'm no use to anyone but them... here" 

"Seifer!" Yanking the blond by the arm, Squall rose, his voice a dangerous hiss. "If you don't shut up and get your ass out of here, I will drag you out of here myself!" 

Seifer hung his head, his arms wrapping tightly around his body, shuddering, tiny glints of silver light falling to the blackness of the carpet. "I ..I'm sorry, Squall. I..." 

"Not now," Squall said much softer, as he snatched Seifer's trenchoat from where it hung on the bedpost. He draped the long, gray coat over Seifer's broad shoulders and urged him forward. "We have to escape first." 

Nodding slowly, Seifer limped towards the door, brushing the back of his hand across his downcast eyes. With a sigh, Squall followed, his heart aching and his own tears forced aside.   
  


* * *

  
tbc....   



	7. The Bloodcross Key: Shattered Knight Par

**_Author's notes_**: I wasn't very happy with how I handled the ending of Arc 1 of the Bloodcross Key, and always intended to go back and add what I felt I left out in my haste to complete it. Here is the first part of the added chapter between part 6 and the epilogue. 

I hope this will make the story better and give you readers what was missing previously. I apologize both for my impatience which produced a not quite complete story, and for any tone or flow shifts in this chapter from the story to this point. It's been almost a year since I 'finished' Arc 1, and getting back into the feel of it isn't easy. 

Thanks for reading and I should have the final part of the added chapter in the next few days, as well as a revised epilogue. 

* * *

**The Bloodcross Key: Arc 1: Shattered Knight**   
b_y Lady Tempest_   


**PART 7:**   


Gunblade firmly in his weapon hand, Squall slipped into the hallway and darted repeat glances in either direction. Still clear. He let out a breath then motioned with his free hand to the form huddled against the doorframe behind him. 

Pulling his tattered trenchcoat tightly around his body, face downcast to the stone floor, Seifer stumbled beside Squall. His feet were bare, as they couldn't find his boots, and the cool of the stone seeped into his soles, and toes, prickling his skin with a shiver which for once, since his capture, actually was from the cold. 

"Stay with me," Squall commanded softly. 

Not waiting for Seifer's acknowledging nod, the brunet turned to the left and headed down the corridor. With stuttering steps, Seifer shuffled along behind him, arms wrapped defensively around himself. 

Exhausted by too many Cures and not enough true rest, his muscles ached. Soreness and pain from the repeated strain and beatings it had been put through, his body moved only by sheer force of will. A stabbing sting between his thighs cut his breath and clenched his jaw with his every step. 

At least one of his stifled gasps must have been audible, because Squall suddenly glanced over his shoulder to Seifer and froze. The SeeD's ocean-blue eyes widened then narrowed to a strangely gentle gaze. 

"You okay?" he asked, striding back towards Seifer. 

Seifer bit his lip. He didn't know how to answer. Squall had already seen how utterly pathetic he was, so admitting to the pain couldn't make him look any worse. But he deserved the pain and no consideration. He was meant to suffer. 

But Squall didn't bother with waiting for an answer. Before Seifer realized, the smaller boy was at his side, pressing against him, wrapping his free arm around Seifer's waist and sliding his shoulder under the blond's arm. Seifer shivered, but from the sudden warmth of Squall's body against his. Aqua eyes prickling with tears, Seifer turned his face away, afraid to take comfort in his One Love's closeness but too weak to pull away. 

"Come on," Squall whispered against his bare neck. "We'll get out of here." 

Seifer remained silent, and let Squall shamble them down the dank, empty hallway. 

As they slowly reached another turn in the corridor, Squall halted. Slipping from under Seifer's arm, and placing his palm against Seifer's chest, as if holding him up, he peered around each corner. Pulling back, he leaned flat against the stone wall. 

"Clear," Squall stated and glanced over to Seifer from behind his wayward, chestnut bangs. "You okay to continue on?" 

Seifer said nothing for several moments, and just stared at the hand pressed protectively against his chest. Squall shouldn't be in such a place. Squall shouldn't be at risk, not for him. But Squall was, and was stubborn. Always was stubborn. Arguing with him at the moment was pointless. No matter how much he should just leave Seifer behind and be somewhere safe. 

"Does it really matter?" Seifer finally muttered. 

"No." Squall's hand lifted from his chest and slid back around his waist. "Not if you still mean to stay..." 

Suddenly, the corridor lights overhead flickered. Both of them glanced upward, but only Squall reacted. Propping his gunblade upright against the wall, but not removing his other arm from around Seifer, Squall rummaged into his inside jacket pocket and removed a small portable radio. He depressed the red button on its side, and static crackled from the tiny speaker. 

"Lion's-Claw One to Lion's-Claw Two, report," Squall spoke into it as loudly as could be dared and still only be heard by whoever was at the other end of the transmission. 

"Lion's-Claw Two," a female voice replied with the abruptness of military protocol. Fujin's voice. "Control room located and secured. Proceeding with orders." 

Fujin? She was here? She knew? Who else knew? All of Garden? Seifer buried his face in his hands, his fingers curling like claws against his forehead. Did everyone know? Know how pathetic and disgusting he was? How much he deserved everything he had coming to him? And then some? 

Yet why would Squall... and Fujin... be trying to remove him from what he only deserved? Seifer just wanted to curl up in some corner, somewhere, and die. Die like he should have months ago, and too often during the war against him... and _her_. 

He would have fallen to the cold floor, wrapping himself in a tiny ball, but for Squall's arm of support around his waist. A support and warmth he didn't, couldn't, dare lean into and let wash away the darkness in his soul. No matter how much he desperately yearned to. Wanted to. Needed to. 

********** 

"Acknowledged." Squall absently nodded, even though only Seifer could see him. "Have found Primary Objective. Am proceeding to Exit Point B." 

"ACKNOWLEDGED!..." Static hissed in the pause. When Fujin continued, she sounded tentative, even a little afraid. "SIR?...Uh...How...?" 

Squall turned to study Seifer. His once proud rival was a bittersweet sight: alive, but beaten, broken; Handsome face buried in trembling hands, scarred only by the one he himself had given, physically. Deeper, darker, more damaging scars lay beneath the surface, within, yet just as openly visible as the one between his eyes. Seifer was warm and solid against him, in his arms, yet the blond still shivered and Squall knew it had little to do with the cold floor. 

Squall's fingers clenched white over the small radio in his hand. "Fine, Lion's-Claw Two. A bit ragged but fine." 

"Acknowledged." Even through the tinny artificialness of the radio speaker, Fujin's voice was clearly choked with emotion, a softness of relief. 

"Lion's-Claw One out." 

Squall stood still for a long moment, staring blankly at nothing. He didn't have time to be caught up in his pain, in Seifer's pain, in the fact they felt like one and the same. If Seifer hurt, he hurt. Simple. When had that happened? Or had it always been that way? And the threat of losing him, forever, was what it had taken to bring it to the surface? 

He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, as if to bury thoughts distracting him from his mission, a mission all the more important because it was tied to the source of those very thoughts. After a quick, focusing breath, he peered carefully around the corner once more. Empty. 

Snapping to attention, radio held rigidly near his tense lips, he spoke into it once more, "Lion's-Claw One to Lion's-Claw Three. Report." 

Incoherent grumbling crackled through the static, followed shortly by Raijin's deep yet lively baritone. "Lion's-Claw Three. No sign of anyone other than those first few guards. Their security is crap, ya know." 

"I'm not complaining, Lion's-Claw Three," Squall replied with a wry grin. 

"Yeah," Raijin paused. "... but where is everyone? Somethin' don't feel right, ya know." 

Squall cast a nervous glance to either side of the corridor. He agreed. Something did feel 'off'. All the more reason to get Seifer out of the damn place as quickly as possible. Squall trusted Raijin and Fujin to carry through their orders, making the task all the easier. But still... the unexpected wouldn't be _unexpected _if one knew exactly what it was in advance. And he hated that! 

"Acknowledged, and confirmed. Am proceeding to Exit Point B. Status?" 

" Exits A and B clear. I'm on my way to C. " 

"Acknowledged," Squall breathed in relief. Maybe getting Seifer to safety could be so simple. "Once Primary Objective has been secured, will return for Objective 3." 

"With ya, there, uh...Lion's-Claw One! Ready an' willin' to knock some heads, ya know!... Sir!" 

Shaking his head, Squall couldn't contain the grin that quirked his lips. Well, for once Raijin went directly to the point. "Acknowledged and confirmed!" 

"Umm.... uh..." 

"Fine." Squall answered softly, gazing at the patch of gold, just at the edge of his vision, slumped against his neck, warm breath gusting against his skin. Seifer still bore most of his own weight, strong enough to stand nearly on his own, but he was obviously tired. Weary in body and spirit. Hopefully, both could hold out just a little longer. "He's fine." 

Raijin's reply was a somber, emotionally strangled whisper. "Thanks, man." 

"Acknowledged, Lion's-Claw Three." Squall's arm tightened unconsciously around Seifer's waist, like he was drawing the blond into him, inside him. Where he could keep him safe. Where... "And... returned. Lion's-Claw One out." 

*****   
(tbc) 


	8. The Bloodcross Key: Shattered Knight Par

_Author's notes: _Well, this chapter is getting much longer than I expected. I'm posting this part now, since I have a busy weekend, and the rest of the last scene I should have finished soon. So, I guess there will be one more chapter then the epilogue and the Revised version of 'Shattered Knight' will be complete. 

Thanks again for reading and I hope you enjoy the changes. 

* * *

**The Bloodcross Key: Arc 1: Shattered Knight**   
_by Lady Tempest_

* * *

  
Part 8:   


Squall sighed, holding the breath for several moments, then exhaled. Turning to Seifer's head lolling against his shoulder, he caught scent of the dirty, blond hair, steeped in cigar smoke and sweat, and unnamable things. But underneath it all, it smelled of warmth and Seifer, everything he was there to protect. As he shifted to lift them upright, the fur of his jacket and the soft gold locks tickled his nose, and he nuzzled Seifer's hair, soaking in the security and wholeness it gave him, yet completely unaware he had done so. 

He would get Seifer out of this horrible place, no matter what. Nothing would stand in his way. Nothing! 

Pushing off the wall, Seifer solidly against him, he clipped the radio to one of his belts, then grabbed Lionheart. 

"Come on," Squall whispered. 

They shuffled forward, Seifer's weight heavier on him that it had been. And his breathing, although a steady rise-fall as Seifer's chest pressed comfortably against his side, was shallow, maybe pained. Squall glanced over, ducking his head to see Seifer's downcast face. The blond's lashes were drooping, flickering as if too heavy to lift, or remain open. 

"Hey. You okay?" 

Seifer's eyes closed, anguish washing like a shadow over his handsome features. The choke of Seifer's breath shuddered along Squall's own body as the blond struggled with some inner turmoil. 

"Tired," Seifer finally rasped with a weak nod. 

"Well, we'll be home soon. Let's go." 

Squall hefted the tall blond to lean more securely against him and continued onward. Darting glances down the ancient halls, Squall turned left, never relaxing the wary roam of his storm-blue eyes or the desperate hold around Seifer's waist. 

For a structure which had been transformed, according to Raijin and Fujin's information, to imprison Seifer only, -- for the patron's sick games-- and house a few employees, guards, and the bastard who owned it, the 'Palace' was large. It would be easy to get lost in the many twists and turns and dank halls. If not for the blueprints to the ancient temple acquired through a 'little' hacking on Raijin's part, during the drive from Garden, Squall likely would have been _very _lost. Thank Hyne for the Deling City Archeological Society Database! _And _a surprisingly capable Raijin. 

The stone surrounding them was oppressive. Dark, dank, and musty, obviously the corridor they had turned down was less used, or since it didn't lead to the main entrance, unnecessary to renovate for appeal to the Palace's 'clients'. Or 'sick fucking bastards', to Squall's mind. He was somewhat grateful for the oversight, as the hall was darker, although gloomier, and the shadows shrouded him with a slight sense of comfort in their concealment, however minimal. It helped override the chill of the earth cold stone and his fear for the one he held firmly beside him. 

"You still with me?" Squall whispered against Seifer's warm throat. With a feather touch of golden hair across his eyelids, he felt the blond nod, weak though it was. 

Yet, even with Seifer's faint affirmative, his strength was slipping, pulling them both off-balance. Squall shifted, canting his hip to leverage Seifer more securely against him, metal scraping the stone floor as the arm wielding his gunblade dipped in counter-balance. 

With a grimace at the sound, he plodded forward. Another turn, and another, and another, and at each Squall faithfully spied for their enemy or anything unwelcome and unexpected. He found it at the next turn. 

The decor suddenly changed, from merely 'dusted ancient ruin' to 'gaudy self-important bastard'. A crimson velvet carpet, fringed and embroidered with gold, began at the juncture of two corridors and led to an ornate door of sculpted silver and gold. And, more importantly, led to a guard on either side of the door, both black-uniformed and alert. 

Squall had a good suspicion of what lay behind that door. And _why _the guards remained, in spite of the fact that Raijin and Fujin's entrance had been less than quiet, he also had a good idea. Biting his lip, he hugged Seifer closer to him. 

It was a sure bet that past those guards was Objective 3. Since he was already there, Squall could take them and the bastard out, and continue on rescuing Seifer with no risk of pursuit. Simple. Except not much was ever that simple. And he'd sooner face a hundred Ultimecia's than lose Seifer. 

Fuck! Well the least he could do was neutralize the guards. No chance of getting past to Exit Point B otherwise. And back-tracking to escape by either A or C wasn't a pleasant prospect either. So, his obvious choice was before him. Shit! 

Squall leaned back, pressing himself and Seifer flat against the wall. Turning to face the slouching blond, he whispered in his ear, "There's two guards at the end of the corridor. I'll take care of them, but try to stay up and alert." 

Swallowing, Seifer nodded slowly. 

Squall pulled away from him, giving an unconscious pat on his arm as the brunet crept towards the end of the corridor. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he shut his eyes, assessing the power flowing under his skin, connected to Ifrit, the one Guardian Force he had kept, and only for missions. He could hear the fire-spirit calling him, craving battle, craving destruction. And Squall would give it to him, all he desired. Soon. 

However, a more subtle tact was required first. Loosing a force like Ifrit in such cramped quarters would be not only difficult, but the resulting devastation could literally fall on their heads as well. Squall sensed Ifrit's grumble and snort at his practicality, but the Guardian relented, agitated with anticipation for Squall's silent promise. 

An icy-warmth crawled along Squall's blood, thrumming, building, crackling with rose light as it pooled and swirled in his hand. As much as the orange flames of Firaga or the purple-black nothingness of Ultima tempted him to loose, to vent, all his rage and destroy those who had attempted to destroy what was his, it was the very purpose of his mission which stayed him. 

Seifer, tattered and weary, broken, battered, and slumped behind him, was depending on him to bring him home, where he belonged. In order to do that, he needed to keep his senses. With a quick breath, Squall strode from the corner and darted his hand forward. The cloud of energy clinging to his fingers shot from him in a pink streak, engulfing the two guards before they had a chance to blink twice at the glowering figure in black leather before them. 

They dropped to the ground, unmoving, as if in a deep sleep. Their heavy machine-rifles fell with them, and fortunately were cushioned to a faint thud by the velvet carpeting. 

Squall's eyes narrowed with satisfaction. Without removing his attention from the Sleeped guards, using his free hand, he motioned Seifer to join him. Pale gray slowly shuffled towards him. Flicking a glance at the edge of his vision, he watched Seifer stumble along the wall, fingers clawing between the cracks in the stone to hold himself steady and upright. 

Squall's eyes stung and hazed at the tension and pain creasing Seifer's brow. Free of hands fiercely clasping it closed, Seifer's trenchcoat swung open, ragged hem brushing his bare ankles, his pale thighs tense with strain, and the shreds of black which had once been a gown barely concealing much except his most private of parts. 

Seifer looked up, sheer misery in his aqua eyes. With a hard swallow and several violent blinks of spiky lashes, Squall reached for him, grasping Seifer's wrist. For a flash of a moment, Squall's hand tingled with a tickling heat where he touched Seifer's skin, even through the thin leather of his glove. His stomach clenched and he blinked again, rapidly, desperately. 

What the fuck was happening to him? Whatever the hell it was, at that moment was _not _the time for it. 

"Come on," Squall snapped, far harsher than he meant, but he had no time for being nice. He tugged Seifer to him and the blond passively followed. 

Carefully, they edged toward the intersection of corridors, Squall's eyes ever watchful of the two sleeping men. A quick check of the cross-path revealed it, at least, was clear. If he remembered the blueprints correctly, two more turns, a right then a left, and a short hallway, and they should be at the western temple entrance. Hopefully, it would still be open, like Raijin had claimed in his last report. 

As they turned right at the corner, a creak sounded behind them, shrieking as loud as thunder in the silence and his taut nerves. His heart jumped, then thundered in his chest like Odin's Warhorse galloping to battle. Praying, to whatever gods may have ever existed in the world, that nothing be there, Squall shot a glance over his shoulder. Unfortunately, those gods were either long dead or never lived. 

Thump. 

A disgusting blob of a man stood in the intersection, long robes stretched over his bulk. He folded his flabby arms over his breast, where they looked like just one more fold of fat. 

Thump. 

"And where do you think you're going with _my _property?" the man hissed, his voice as oily as he was. His eyebrows, like two dark, greasy smudges, were arched in seething anger. 

Thump. 

To free his hands, Squall shoved Seifer to the floor, a little more roughly than he intended. Wincing, he darted Seifer a quick apologetic look. The blond landed in a sprawl with an unpleasant thud, flesh bared for any eyes to see. 

Thump. 

And eyes did see. The large man's gaze was riveted to Seifer's spread thighs, an unconscious, or perhaps actually conscious, lick of his thin lips joining his leer. Bastard! 

Seifer curled into himself, long legs trembling, pulled to his chest. His handsome face grew even paler than it had been, pale pink lips quivering as his own gaze was locked: on the man. But there was no lust in Seifer's dazed aqua eyes, no leer, not even what would be typical of Seifer: defiance and anger. Nothing even remotely familiar to the young man Squall had known most of his life existed in those eyes. Only fear, anguish, misery, despair. And worst of all: defeat. 

Thump. 

Squall shook with fury, his knuckles white around the hilt of Lionheart. Seifer should never look like that. Never! Not Seifer! He would get Seifer away, where it was safe. Where a battle, or no one, and no thing would ever hurt him. Or set their filthy eyes on him. Safe. And _then _there would be hell to pay! 

Thump. Thump. 

His other hand, clenched just as tightly, pulsed with pale rose light while he drew the power of Sleep once more to his fingertips. As revolting as the lust slithering off the man was, like a foul stench defiling the very air, Squall would use it against him. The fucking bastard would never look at Seifer that way, or harm him, ever again. Never! 

Thump. Thump. 

Squall shot his hand forward, releasing the pulsing magic. The pink mist engulfed the bastard he knew had taken Seifer, maybe in more ways than Squall could imagine, or would ever want to. 

Thump. 

As quickly as it surrounded the large man, the energy faded. To nothing. And the man remained standing. Unaffected. And smirking, smug and greasy and foul. 

"You thought it would be that easy?" the man laughed viciously. "_You're_ not taking him. _I_ am." 

Thump. 

A voice roaring of a thousand infernos, searing as flame, smoldered at the edge of Squall's mind. _'Loose me,' _it fumed. 

Thump. 

"And if you're good, maybe..." The man's leering smirk twisted with a darkness that sickened Squall to his bones. "... I'll let you watch." He paused, a malicious glint in his dark eyes. With a sneering laugh rumbling in his chest, he quickly added, "No charge." 

Thump. 

_ 'Now!' _Ifrit hissed. _'I will destroy.'_

Thump. 

"You are never touching him again, Asshole," Squall seethed, cold, smooth, and level, like he recited Garden regulations or a mission briefing. 

Thump. 

Ifrit fed off Squall's rage, increasing his own, and his innate need to destroy. However, as much as Squall wanted to give in and incinerate the fat fuck to a crisp -- an image the Fire Guardian found rather impressive, and as satisfying as the brunet did -- Seifer was all that truly mattered, and he wouldn't risk him, for anything. So, Squall would deal with it directly and simply, and in perhaps the most satisfying way he knew, and well: Steel. 

Thump. 

As he leapt forward, his gunblade slashing a silver arch through the air, a huge form suddenly appeared before him, in front of the Palace's owner. Twisting his body in mid-jump, he spun, and, far short of where his leap would have if completed, landed facing the beast. 

Its head grazed the ceiling, knocking the hanging lamps, causing the light to flicker and sway. Skin coarse, leathery, red as blood, and covered only in a tattered loincloth, the beast was humanoid with four arms and clawed, massive hands. 

Thump. 

Before Squall had a chance to swing at it with Lionheart, one set of its arms pounded the stone floor, shaking the ground, the walls, and rattling the lights. Pebbles and dust rained from the ceiling, to patter on stone. Peppered with dirt, darkening his already tarnished gold, Seifer cowered against the wall, curled into himself protectively. His eyes were wild and terrified, peeking over the nest of his arms, and focused solely on the creature. And, he was whimpering. 

If Squall had the time, his heart would have broken. But he didn't. And he needed to put such things out of his mind if he was to save Seifer, and save himself. 

Thump. Thump. 

The beast let out a piercing growl, which shook the ancient temple almost as much as his fists. Slimy drool slavered from its large mouth and jagged, discolored teeth. Strings of the saliva dripped down its torso and to the floor, darkening the stone. And it stank. Like week old vomit and dead things. Squall grimaced in disgust. 

Thump-thump. 

Not letting the creature attack again, Squall dashed forward. He dodged its arms and swung at its gut with his gunblade. A flash of silver and a red spray of blood, and the blade sliced into flesh. 

Thump-thump. 

However, the beast's hide was tough, and the wound superficial. It howled, an irritated more than a wounded sound, rumbling and shrill-edged, the reverberations alone shaking the stones of the temple, raining more dust and dirt onto their heads. 

Thump-thump. 

Shit! How the fuck could he kill the thing? Fucking whittle away at it? Not likely! Before Squall could leap back to reassess the battle, and his strategy, the creature flailed at him with all of its large meaty fists. Squall ducked. Swerved. A swipe of one huge arm whooshed over his head, rustling Squall's dark, dusty hair. 

Thump-thump. 

Shit! He dodged to his right. Another fist narrowly missed him. Squall gasped, the dust-laden air and rotted-stench of the beast nearly choking him. The beast was very large, very strong, but very slow. Not that he was complaining. Not at all. But it wasn't enough. Four _slow _massive arms trying to pummel him into the ground were still _four _arms. 

Thump-thump. 

He dodged, ducked, weaved, scrambling, searching for a weakness, a soft spot in the creature's armor-skin.   


* * *

(TBC)   


  



	9. The Bloodcross Key: Shattered Knight Par

****

**The Bloodcross Key**   
_by Lady Tempest_

Part 9:   


* * *

... Thump-thump. 

Shit! He dodged to his right. Another fist narrowly missed him. Squall gasped, the dust-laden air and rotted-stench of the beast nearly choking him. The beast was very large, very strong, but very slow. Not that he was complaining. Not at all. But it wasn't enough. Four _slow _massive arms trying to pummel him into the ground were still _four _arms _trying _to _pummel _him into the ground. 

Thump-thump. 

He dodged, ducked, weaved, scrambling, searching for a weakness, a soft spot in the creature's armor-skin. A blur of leathery red breezed past his face as he leapt backwards in reflex, and none too soon. 

Thump-thump. 

Panting, chest tight and eyes stinging with sweat, he held his gunblade poised ready to strike; He may not be able to critically damage the beast, but something was better than nothing. The creature lumbered towards him, shaking the walls as it moved. 

Thump-thump. 

It passed Seifer, it's gnarled feet shambling furrows in the carpet. But something about the blond, huddled tightly in his own arms, attracted the beast's attention. For the barest of breaths it paused, staring at Seifer who visibly shuddered, even enveloped under the gray of his trenchcoat. 

Thump-thump. 

Seifer feared nothing. Yet he feared that beast. Was terrified of it. And the filthy thing seemed drawn to Seifer's fear. Fed on it. 

No! "No!" Squall growled. 

The creature snorted, an ominous and wet sound, and tilted its head in Squall's direction. Its large dark eyes, bloodshot and glazed with filth, lazily fell upon him. 

Not wasting a moment of the beast's distraction, Squall immersed himself in the intense energy and heat of Firaga, orange and molten, prickling his veins and flushing hot-cold under his skin. The creature slowly lumbered towards him. 

Thump-thump. 

Shivering with the power building within himself, Squall took careful backward steps. His breath was short and quick, gusting over his lips. Sweat tickled down the side of his face. 

Thump-thump. 

A deep, rumbling sneer whispered in the back of his mind. '_Ah, but we can do better than this! Release me. I will destroy! All!'_

The 'all' was what he feared. But in its time, he would revel in it. He risked a darted glance to Seifer. Through the gap in the beast's arms, and a good distance behind, he barely caught a flash of gold and pale gray. 

Thump-thump. 

Squall's foot slid forward. Boot scuffed against the carpet. Gunblade flashing silver in the swaying overhead light, his glove tightened its grip. He thrust his other hand outward. Red-orange light swirled and shot forth. Streaking. A sizzling hiss. A booming flash. Red. Yellow. Flames. Black smoke. 

Squall squinted his eyes against the sudden glare and wash of heat. The thermal gust brushed his skin to a flush and ruffled his hair. As he blinked away reflexive tears, he gazed through the wavering haze, intense as the flame engulfing the hulk before him. Searching. 

Thump-thump. 

He knew the blast would unlikely be enough to kill the creature, but maybe it could reveal a weakness. Or create one. Or at the very least, be that much closer to bringing its end. 

The beast was stunned, roaring in pain. And for Squall, that was enough. He leapt forward, knees bent to an almost crouch. Rising up, his gunblade rising with him, he attacked. Silver reflected the red-orange licks of flame as it arched through the sphere of fire toward the beast. 

Thump-thump. 

The blade struck the creature's blackened belly with suddenness which jarred through Squall's arms and to his bones. He gasped, but his own fire of adrenaline running in his blood held him and Lionheart as it sliced along the creature's charred red skin with a strength he didn't know he possessed. 

Thump-thump. 

A bellow echoed through the temple, muffled to Squall's ears like he was underwater. All that he saw, heard, smelled, breathed was his own consuming rage and battle-lust, and the tugs at the tip of his blade where skin and bone resisted its sharp edge. 

Thump-thump. 

Something red, wet, and foul sprayed into his face, battering like rain. He didn't care. All the mattered was defeating the beast, protecting Seifer. Simple. And strangely easy. 

Thump-thump. 

His muscles twitched with strain as he brought Lionheart down in a return strike. Again, and again, and again. Until he barely felt his arms, a numbness seeping through him. 

Thump-thump. 

Then, suddenly a sparkle of dark lights and the red-black bulk was gone. Vanished. Only blood soaking the red velvet carpet to black, in a splatter along the walls, and himself, as well as several chunks and lumps of flesh and gore, were evidence that the beast had even existed. 

Thump-thump. 

Squall blinked, like coming out of a daze. His blade dropped to the ground with a muted clang as pierced to the stone underneath the carpet at his feet. Arms tingling with weariness, breath short, panting, he blinked again, lids sticky with blood. 

Across the hallway, the palace's owner stood about as dazed as Squall had been. Squall strode forward, dragging Lionheart beside him, a soft, ripping-scraping sound trailing behind it. Gore and blood squished under his boots. 

Thump. Thump.   
  
His shoulders rose and fell heavily. The power and battle-lust drained from him, but the rage simmered. Staring at the full, pinched face of the bastard who caused all of Seifer's pain made maintaining any anger more than effortless.   
  


...(Tbc)

****   



	10. The Bloodcross Key: Shattered Knight Par

****

**The Bloodcross Key: Arc 1: Shattered Knight**   
_by Lady Tempest_

... 

_ Squall blinked, like coming out of a daze. His blade dropped to the ground with a muted clang as pierced to the stone underneath the carpet at his feet. Arms tingling with weariness, breath short, panting, he blinked again, lids sticky with blood._

_ Across the hallway, the palace's owner stood about as dazed as Squall had been. Squall strode forward, dragging Lionheart beside him, a soft, ripping-scraping sound trailing behind it. Gore and blood squished under his boots._

_ Thump. Thump...._   
  


**Part 10:**   


"How... how did you...?" the owner stammered, his grating voice a startled croak. "I... I paid good money for him!" 

Squall's shoulders rose and fell heavily. The power and battle-lust drained from him, but the rage simmered. Staring at the full, pinched face of the bastard who caused all of Seifer's pain made maintaining any anger more than effortless. 

Seifer. 

"Whatever.." Squall hissed. "I don't care." 

The air was hazy brown with dust, stirred to swirls with occasional trickles of pebbles from above. It was smothering, and itchy. Squall blinked the sting and grit from his eyes. But his lashes were spiked and sticky with blood, irritating his vision and him more. Squall swiped his sleeve across his face, only to smear red in a fierce paint and add the blood on his jacket. 

Seifer. 

His gaze fell by instinct to the trembling form huddled against the wall: dusted with fallen dirt; hair a filthy gray-yellow; coat grayer, and brown with a thick layer of dust and tiny fragments of stone; and blood. 

Thumpthump. 

Blood. Splatters of red, and darker brown, where soaked into the dirt coating Seifer. 

No! 

Thumpthump. 

Their eyes met: Squall's panicked; Seifer's pained. But a broken, desolate pain. Not physical. Seifer was enveloped tightly into himself, shaking, breathing heavily through an open mouth, muted pink lips quivering. 

Thump-Thump. 

Squall's eyes narrowed, stinging, blurring, the stickiness loosing with a brimming wet. Clenching his jaw, teeth grinding, he turned away. Even if Seifer was wounded, physically, the only way Squall could help him was to get him out. Get him safe. 

And the only way to get him to safety was removing one final obstacle. Slowly his gaze lifted to the large man mere meters away. One final obstacle. One for whom death was too good an end, and anything else was unacceptable. 

Squall stalked forward, swishing his bloodied gunblade back and forth in rhythm to his steps. The living dead-man fumbled through the layers of his robes, as if searching for something. Squall knew magic was too much of a risk. The bastard had already repelled a Sleep spell. Who knew what else he had resistance to? 

No, fortunately, just the steel in his hand and the skill to use it was all he needed. And all he wanted to need. 

Thump. Thump. 

**** 

Seifer watched as Squall strode towards his tormentor, his owner. The SeeD Commander was fierce: eyes a steel blue, pretty face masked in blood and as stern as stone. Blood. Blood, so much blood. He shivered. In fear. A common companion in his new life. 

His vision blurred, red, gray, black, red melting together, becoming a nothingness blanking his stare. Blanking his ears. But it didn't blank his mind. Hands. So many hands. Grabbing him, touching him, crawling over his skin like fleshy spiders. Violating him, hurting him, punishing him. 

Large hands. Oily hands. Filthy and vile. Strong. Huge. Too many. Hitting. Clawing. Pulling. Grabbing. Spoiling. Destroying him. Outside and in. Ravaging his pride, his dreams, his soul. 

Rough skin, thick. Scratching. Pain. So much pain. So many hands. Fetid breath hot on his skin. Stench. Like smoke. Stale. Like death. Sickness. Slithering on his face, his throat, his chest, his thighs, his... 

Seifer gagged. His eyes squeezed shut, pushing his tears in dirty streaks down his cheeks. Fingers digging in the cracks in the stone wall, teeth digging into his bottom lip, he choked on his own breath. On the brink of freedom, although a freedom he didn't deserve, and all his mind brought him was torment. 

The beast was dead. Ogre. He saw Squall destroy it with his own two eyes. But it would live on in his nightmares. Forever. Forever... Never free. Never. Never... 

Oh! Seifer's head snapped back to reality and Squall. It wasn't... it wasn't dead. It'll just come back. Come back. And hurt... Guardian Forces don't die. Not unless... 

His gaze darted to his owner. The large man drew something from his robes. Something shiny, silver. The bracelets on the man's fat wrists jangled as he aimed at Squall. 

No! Seifer leapt up, springing at Squall before he had even fully risen. Although unsure if his cry breached his lips, it didn't matter. Only saving Squall mattered. A loud bang broke the strange muteness of sound in his ears, like bursting from underwater to crisp air and explosions of fireworks. 

He tackled Squall to the ground. His breath stopped. His heart thrummed so fast it felt like it stopped as well. Everything... stopped. 

Nothing. Silence. 

Hands shoved at him. Hands Seifer was too numb to fear. Yet somewhere distant he sensed he wouldn't fear them anyway. He dropped his head to the floor, carpet soft and warm and wet under his cheek. And it smelled of earth and iron. Stone and blood. 

He lay still. Drifting. Another gunshot broke his silence. And another. And a scream. He couldn't tell which came first. But it didn't matter. The scream wasn't Squall. He would know. And the last gunshot was. 

Squall. _Squall _was safe. Seifer wasn't sure if he himself was, and he didn't really care. 

****** 

"Seifer!" 

Squall spun from the Palace owner's mound of a body, the charred black hole at the center of the man's forehead, and his unseeing beady eyes proof enough he was dead. 

"Seifer!" 

Falling to his knees beside the blond, Squall grabbed Seifer's shoulder. He drew him, carefully, onto his back, half resting on Squall's thigh. Desperate and running frantic fingers along Seifer's chest, he searched for a wound, not daring to release his breath until he found none. 

His search found nothing. At least, nothing that hadn't marred Seifer's skin previously. Skin so smooth. Soft. Underlying with hard muscle. Squall gasped, realizing his hands wandered on warm flesh. Seifer's flesh. Seifer's mostly _bare _flesh. 

Blushing, he snapped his hands away, and quickly folded his arms across his chest. Concern overriding embarrassment, Squall looked into Seifer's dulled aqua eyes, hoping they confirmed Seifer was unhurt. Well, as unhurt as he was when Squall found him. 

Tears streamed down Seifer's handsome face, muddying the dust and dirt. 

"You injured?" Squall asked softly. 

Seifer blinked. Breath hitching, like he suddenly remembered he needed air, he struggled to sit upright. Squall extended a hand, clasping Seifer's tightly, and with his other on Seifer's shoulder, eased him up. 

"You okay?" Squall swept a stray fall of hair from Seifer's eyes. 

Slowly, maybe a little dazed, Seifer nodded. 

Nodding in acknowledgement, Squall sighed, relieved. Not much further and the mission would be complete. It's most important objective would be accomplished. His most important objective: Seifer safe. 

He unclipped the radio at his belt. Raising it to his lips, Squall spoke. 

"Lion's-Claw One to Lion's-Claw Three." 

The snap of static, and Raijin's deep voice crackled through the speaker, "Lion's-Claw Three. I hear ya, man." 

"Objective 3 completed. Withdraw. Proceed to Exit Point B and wait. Inform Lion's-Claw Two of the withdrawal orders. She has five minutes, starting..." Squall glanced down at his watch and paused, waiting as several seconds ticked by, digital numerals shifting to the next. "... _now _to finish acquiring any information. Clear?" 

"Gotcha." The low hiss of static filled a pause. "Is he still...?" 

Squall glanced at Seifer's downcast face. His gloved hand lifted to cup Seifer's cheek, rubbing his thumb along dirty skin. 

"Yeah." 

Seifer's sad eyes met his. Mesmerizing eyes. Eyes he wanted to see full of life and light and passion, like they once were. And freedom. Freedom from pain, and nightmares, the torture Seifer must have suffered to so break him. Free. Safe... Loved... 

With a quick shake, Squall startled himself to awareness and from the wanderings of his mind. 

"Let me do my job, and you worry about doing your own. Lion's-Claw One out," he snapped.   


***** 

(tbc in _revised _Epilogue)   


****   
  



	11. The Bloodcross Key: Shattered Knight Epi

**The Bloodcross Key: Arc 1: Shattered Knight**   
_by Lady Tempest_   


**Epilogue:**   


In the distance, a billowing column of gray dust and smoke rose to the dusk blue sky. Tiny dark shapes scurried over the barren hills like ants, escaping the destruction an unknown force of three, quite literally, had called upon the once ruin turned house of carnality turned ruin once again. However, considering the level of fury of the guardian elemental, incited by it's master, the hailstorm of fiery and molten rock was so devastating, the area would likely never recover to become _anything _again. Deep blackened craters pocked the once green cluster of hills, dirt and stone and metal, charred black, and strewn in chaotic clumps along the landscape. 

While Raijin drove the SeeD transport back to Garden, Squall turned from the window, the bite of smoke a satisfying sting in his eyes. The destruction he had sworn to bring upon those who had hurt Seifer grew ever distant behind them. He stared down at the broken young man curled in a corner of the vehicle's sprawling backseat. The blond trembled, restless, as if even in his sleep he found no freedom from all he had suffered. 

All Squall needed was that one glimpse to eliminate any regret he might have had for obliterating the structure to so much dust. And he damn sure found no regret in the death of the 'Palace's' owner, a disgusting man who made the _convenient _mistake of not only summoning some sort of creature to fight him, but pulling a pistol too and almost shooting Seifer. Very convenient, saving him the moral dilemma of what to do with him. 

Seifer shuddered, a faint moan muffled by the vinyl seat. Squall desperately wanted to comfort the shattered boy who had been his rival, but he didn't know how. Too many years of holding his feelings back left him woefully ignorant. A faint image flashed in his mind of a little, adorable blond boy, sleeping much more peacefully, though still troubled, his tiny arms wrapped tightly around a faded-yellow, stuffed chocobo, tattered and mottled with mending stitches, but still loved even with all it's scars. 

Squall fought back a slight, mournful smile. Seifer seemed to have a strange and stubborn attraction to flawed and broken things. But then, maybe he did too. 

Sliding across the seat, with a creak of leather against vinyl, he reached a hesitant hand to brush back a stray curl of golden hair. Seifer always had at least one, defiant and falling against his forehead. Squall had usually found it amusing that the head of the Disciplinary Committee couldn't even completely discipline his own hair. And such beautiful hair too, like the rest of him, though he had always thought Seifer would be beyond absolutely breathtaking if he let it grow longer... 

Squall shook himself, snatching back his hand. He shouldn't be thinking about Seifer that way. And especially not now. Not that there was a time he should have such thoughts. No matter what Fujin had said about Seifer's feelings, she, he, couldn't have meant that sort of love. Seifer may have become unwittingly an essential part of his life, but it had to be like one would feel for a brother. It had to be... 

However, regardless of what he should or shouldn't have been thinking, the whimper that fell from Seifer's lips chased it all away. His hands flew to the blond without thought and he drew Seifer into his arms and held him, much like a smaller, yet just as vulnerable, Seifer had held a treasured stuffed chocobo so many years ago. 

The warmth of their bodies enveloped him, bringing him a comfort he sought to give Seifer and had not even known he needed himself. The even puffs of soft, warm breath against his throat soothed him to nearly the point of tears. Tears he would have dismissed as the smoke still stinging his watery eyes had he not been pulled into his own world where nothing existed but him and the beautiful blond rival nestled against his chest. A world where he was oblivious to a single scarlet eye watching him with a gentle, approving smile. 

"You're safe now, Seifer," he whispered, knowing that the blond still lingered under the effects of Sleep. "No one's going to hurt you anymore. I'll make sure of it." 

* * *

(End of Shattered Knight) 

* * *

  


**Author's Notes:** I've waited until the end to make any comments on the new chapters. I felt it would break the mood and flow otherwise. It's amazing how freeing writing the new sections has been... well, finishing them. I wanted to go on after completing Arc 2 and write my other FF8 fics, but I felt like something was left unfinished, that if I didn't make the revisions to Arc 1 I would never feel closure for the story up to the end of Arc 2. I was right and I feel free now. Ahhh!! 

Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed the changes and that the flow of the story was consistent with the earlier chapters. That was one of my main concerns with the additions. I also had not intended the missing scenes to be so long, but I feel much better now about how the story's gone than I did before. I think in some ways it was better that I had to come back and add the scenes later, after completing Arc 2, because it allowed me to include hints and foreshadowing and little nuances that fit with Reversals that I would never have known to include if I had written the scenes before Arc 2. For instance, the Ogre is a mix of many things that could only exist by writing it now and not then. It's a vague reference to a creature in FFX, plus I left implications of its role in Seifer's 'punishment' that reference what Squall discovers in the beginning of Arc 2. Sick, yes. But I thought it added that extra level of revulsion and awareness of what Seifer has suffered that helps explain why and how completely broken he is. 

And if anyone noticed, I also reference the opening duel of the game and Seifer's 'cheating' plus his later response to Squall's accusation. It's slight, but it's there. I really like including such references to things in the game, especially when they're not obvious but still important in their way. 

Well, I've babbled enough, but I did have alot saved up grin>. Hope it was a pleasure. It was a pleasure to write and share with you all. (at least now that it's finished and I can appreciate all the hard work I put into it) 

**The Bloodcross Key** isn't finished with '**Shattered Knight**'. It continues in **Arc 2: Reversals** (which is also complete)and eventually in** Arc 3 **(yet to be written**). **Although it is to be an ongoing series, it _can_ be read as completed with the end of Arc 2. I have more story to tell, but many of the major issues are at least dealt with if not resolved in Reversals. You can find it on my website or on Fanfiction.net. 

Thanks to all who have supported this story and me with their kind and generous feedback. All of you, whether through FF.net, the FF8Yaoi ml, or personal email. I especially appreciate those who took the extra time to detail what they liked and what they felt worked, and sometimes what didn't. Good and bad, it's all helpful to me, and I thank you!   
  


  
  



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